


Turncoat

by smarshtastic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Betrayal, Friends to Enemies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 01:23:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11613006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarshtastic/pseuds/smarshtastic
Summary: Edwards gives Jesse a smile and reaches out to squeeze Jesse’s non-injured arm. “What are friends for, huh?”---Edwards is not who Jesse thinks he is.





	Turncoat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fabrega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/gifts).



> It's Day #3: Friends/Enemies for [Blackwatch Week](https://blackwatchweek.tumblr.com/) and I... couldn't resist. Sorry? 
> 
> Anyway, you should definitely check out the Blackwatch Week [twitter](https://twitter.com/blackwatchweek) and [tumblr](https://blackwatchweek.tumblr.com/) to see all the amazing fanworks folks are posting. There's SO MUCH good content we're so spoiled I LOVE IT.
> 
> Shout out to [fabrega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/) for being a fantastic beta, as usual. Also, please go read [Gals Being Pals](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/BlackwatchWeek/works/11569389) because it will make you feel better after this, I promise ♥ 
> 
> You can find my on [tumblr](http://wictorwictor.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/smarshtastic)! Come say hi!

**-=FRIENDS=-**

The wind whips through Jesse’s hair, stinging his eyes as he tries to squint down the length of the train. He knew, in theory, that the train would be moving fast – hyper-speed isn’t exactly slow – but in practice it’s something else entirely. Tears blur his vision as his eyes do their best to adjust to the wind buffeting his body. Jesse reaches up with one hand to pull the goggles down from the top of his head. That’s better - his vision clears as he blinks back the tears.

“Do you see it?” Edwards shouts to be heard above the wind and the train.

“Two cars down,” Jesse shouts back.

“Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

The two of them crawl slowly along the top of the train car, aided by magnetic grips in their shoes and tac gloves. Still, it’s nerve-wracking. It’s not like it’s Jesse’s first time trying to pull a train job – it was practically his specialty when he was still in Deadlock – but the trains that crisscrossed the American south were distinctly different than the high-speed trains in Asia, their current target. Not only are they _much_ faster, but the security is vastly superior. Thus, Blackwatch’s resident train robber and tech expert were the natural choice for this mission.

Jesse gets to the gap between cars first and waits for Edwards to catch up. He looks back at Edwards.

“You good?”

Edwards nods, though Jesse can’t help but notice the death grip he has on the edge of the car. Jesse launches himself off the car and crosses the gap easily, barely making a sound when he lands. He gestures for Edwards to follow. He’s less elegant about it – certainly less quiet, at least – but he makes it. They crawl over the roof of the car to the next gap and make the jump in the same order. There, clinging to the roof with one hand, Edwards slides his tablet out of his pocket and types one handedly.

“How many?”

“Four guards, two at the back, two at the front,” Edwards says. “Armed.”

“That’s fine. I’ll take the front, if you take the back?”

“Sure,” Edwards says. He keeps typing, fingers flying surprisingly fast for having to type with only one hand. “Nearly disabled their alarms.”

“I’ve got the EMP ready just in case.”

“We have seven minutes,” Edwards says. He looks up at Jesse. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it.”

Edwards hits enter and his code starts running. Jesse crawls the rest of the way to the front of the car and drops down between them. He slides the EMP under the door and counts to ten before he kicks the door open. The guards in the car are already moving around in panicked confusion.

“Easy now, boys,” Jesse says, keeping an eye on the back door. “We can do this the –”

The guards open fire. Jesse ducks behind a crate. He hears Edwards return fire at the rear of the car. Jesse pops out from cover and fires two more shots. When he gets a good look, he sees all four guards are down. Edwards is standing just inside the car door.

“Okay?” Jesse asks.

“That was easier than I thought it would be,” Edwards says.

“Let’s not jinx it now. Can you get a reading on the target?” Jesse says, holstering his weapon. Edwards takes his tablet out again and starts scanning the cargo. Jesse bends to check each of the guards for any equipment the EMP didn’t disable. He finds an earpiece that’s still transmitting and crushes it under the heel of his boot.

“Got it,” Edwards says triumphantly. He gestures to a small, locked box tucked into a shelf in the middle of the car. Jesse comes over to look.

“How much time do we have?”

“A little less than three minutes.”

“Can you open it?”

“I’d need more time.”

Jesse lets a breath out. “We’re gonna have to haul it out then.”

A commotion at the front end of the car makes Jesse and Edwards look up: several more guards burst through the doors, tripping over the bodies of their former coworkers.

“Time to go,” Jesse says, grabbing the box with one hand and unholstering his weapon with his other. He squeezes off two shots as he moves to the back of the car. Edwards provides Jesse with enough cover fire to get the back door open. He scrambles back up onto the roof with some difficulty, the box weighing him down. Edwards hauls himself up after Jesse. He sees the flash of a guard’s face before Edwards’s boot connects with it, sending the man flying off the side of the train. “Comms?”

Edwards taps his ear piece. “Wake? Status?”

“We’ve got eyes on the train,” she says over the comms. “Hold on.”

“ETA?”

“Just a minute – hold your horses,” Wake says. Another guard comes over the side of the car and grabs Jesse’s boot. He does his best to shake him off, but the guard only lets go when Edwards finally shoots him.

“We don’t really got a minute, Wake,” Jesse says. He tilts his head up towards the sky, looking for their shuttle.

“I’m working on it!”

Finally, the shuttle melts out of the sky, swooping low over the train. The rope comes down and, once he manages to grab it, Jesse immediately loops it through the handles on the box.

“Take this first,” Jesse says. The box swings up and away out of his hands as it’s reeled into the shuttle. Jesse glances back at the gap between train cars; more guards are coming. The rope is lowered from the shuttle again.

“Edwards, go,” Jesse says, nudging him toward the rope. Edwards doesn’t need telling another time. He grabs the rope on the second try and gives it a tug. He swings wildly, buffeted by the wind and speed, but makes it into the shuttle as Jesse fires at the tops of the guards’ heads peeking up between the cars. A moment later and the rope is lowered again. Jesse reaches for it. A bullet whizzes through his arm. He stumbles, hissing through his teeth. He makes a grab for the rope with his other arm, but misses. Two guards come over the edge of the roof. Jesse kicks at them as he manages to grab the rope. One guard goes flying off the roof of the train, but the other holds onto Jesse’s boot even as he’s hoisted aloft. His arm pulls horribly with the added weight. Jesse twists and kicks, doing his best to dislodge the guard from his foot, his other arm bleeding, useless and limp, at his side.

“McCree!” Jesse hears Edwards shout somewhere above him. He looks up to see Edwards leaning out of the shuttle, arm extended. Jesse grits his teeth. He swings his injured arm up as far as he can. Edwards manages to grab his wrist. Jesse’s body is screaming in pain but the adrenaline keeps his head on straight. He gives the guard a final kick as Edwards does his best to haul him up into the shuttle. The guard’s grip slips and he goes tumbling back to the earth. Jesse doesn’t look back.

A moment later and he’s on his back on the floor of the shuttle. He lies there, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

“Jesus – are you okay?” Edwards asks, bending over Jesse. Jesse sits up with difficulty.

“Yeah,” Jesse says. He brings his hand up to clutch at his injured arm. He dislocated his shoulder, probably, and he has the bullet wound to contend with, too, but at least he’s alive. He looks at Edwards. “Thanks.”

Edwards gives Jesse a smile and reaches out to squeeze Jesse’s non-injured arm. “What are friends for, huh?”

* * *

**-=ENEMIES=-**

He’s seen a ghost. There’s no other explanation for it. Gabriel Reyes is dead and what Jesse just saw – it’s impossible.

He should really stop drinking.

Tucked between two shipping containers, Jesse reloads his gun as quietly as possible, keeping an ear cocked for the creature with Gabe’s face. It had moved impossibly quietly, only given away by the sound of billowing fabric, which is how it managed to sneak up on Jesse in the first place. His heart is thumping in his throat. He’s off his game; he’s spooked. It’s probably exactly what the creature was aiming for, but it begs the question: who is it? How did they know that using Gabe was sure to shake him?

Jesse doesn’t have time for questions. He needs to get the hell out of here.

Peacekeeper raised, Jesse steps out from between the shipping containers. There’s nobody there. Jesse’s fingers flex around the grip of his revolver. Maybe he _is_ seeing things. It’d be fitting, losing his mind after all these years. It’d be the perfect punishment to see Gabe again, one last time before…

The rustle of fabric behind him makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. Jesse whips around and squeezes the trigger. Smoke leaks out of the shrouded figure. Under the hood, it’s Gabe’s face Jesse sees – unmistakable, except for the red in his eyes.

“Gabe –” Jesse starts to say, his gun wavering. The creature reaches out and seizes Jesse by the throat, sharp talons digging into his flesh. Jesse gasps for air. “Gabe –”

The creature keeps squeezing, Gabe’s eyes on Jesse’s face, unfeeling, dull as Jesse struggles. The last of the air leaves his lungs and Jesse’s vision goes dark.

=-=-=

Jesse wakes some time later, disoriented and sore. He blinks blearily and tries to move, but he’s tied to a chair. Jesse groans. How could he be so _stupid_?

“You’re awake,” a familiar voice says somewhere behind him. Jesse stiffens in his seat. He doesn’t trust himself to speak. He holds his breath, waiting for more, dreading confirmation of his fears. “Don’t you want to say hello? Jesse, I thought we were friends.”

Jesse closes his eyes briefly. When he reopens them, Michael fucking Edwards is standing right in front of him with a smirk on his face.

“What,” Jesse starts to say, but his voice comes out hoarse. He clears his throat a little “The fuck?”

“I have a proposition for you,” Edwards says. Jesse watches him warily.

“I’m not really interested in bondage,” Jesse says, shifting against the ropes that tie him to the chair. They’re strong - tight. Jesse isn’t going anywhere.  

“That’s not what I heard,” Edwards replies. Jesse clenches his hands around the ropes behind his back.

“What do you want?”

“Like I said - I have a proposition. A position, actually,” Edwards says. He looks Jesse over from head to toe. “It’s a good job, with many benefits. Like health insurance - which it looks like you might need.”

“Fuck you,” Jesse spits. “If you think I’m going to work for whatever this shitshow is -”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to judge,” Edwards says. Jesse grits his teeth but doesn’t say anything more. Edwards shakes his head and then looks over his shoulder. “You can come in now.”

The door to the room doesn’t open; instead, a wisp of black smoke comes through a vent near the ceiling, swirling down to coalesce on the floor before it solidifies into that shrouded figure Jesse had seen on the dock. He feels his heart rate pick up.

“Working for Talon has its advantages,” Edwards says as the hooded creature advances towards Jesse. The creature pushes its hood back and Gabe’s face is looking down at Jesse, unnaturally pale, more scarred than Jesse remembers, visibly coming apart at the seams. Jesse makes himself look away.

“This is a dirty trick,” Jesse says. “Gabe died.”

“We brought him back,” Edwards says. “You could be together again, Jesse. Don’t you want that?”

Jesse closes his eyes. He does want it - desperately. But not like this; he wants it like how it used to be, before everything went to shit, when Gabe was whole and Jesse wasn’t plagued by doubts. In spite of everything - all the rumors, all the accusations - he trusted Gabe, with his life, even after he left. Maybe he had been naive.

“Fuck you,” Jesse says, finally reopening his eyes. He avoids looking at Gabe - or the creature who looks like Gabe.

“Do you really think you can make a difference out there, on your own? We have resources - you could do so much more -” Edwards says but Jesse cuts him off.

“Not with fucking _Talon_ ,” Jesse says.

“What, like Blackwatch was any better?”

“We weren’t terrorists!”

“We might as well have been!” Edwards shoots back. Jesse recoils as much as the ropes allow him to. Something awful twists in his gut.

“You were always Talon, weren’t you?”

“Good job, you figured it out,” Edwards says, voice going condescending. “Took you long enough.”

Jesse looks away, shaking his head. His head is spinning with all the inconsistencies that never added up: how the fall of Overwatch allegedly came from within; how it was so easily blamed on Gabe; how, maybe, the wild rumors that circulated after the explosion weren’t entirely far off after all.

Jesse’s chest aches.  

“Fuck you.”

Edwards smirks. He starts to move toward the door, skirting around the smokey creature with Gabe’s face. The creature doesn’t move.

“This was your only offer, Jesse. You’re too much of a liability to have running around out there without oversight,” he says, pausing by the door. He looks back at Jesse. “I thought you were smarter than this.”

“Who else was it?” Jesse blurts out. “How many of you were there?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Edwards taunts. He shakes his head, making a negligent gesture in Jesse’s direction. “Kill him.”

Edwards slips out of the room as the creature advances on Jesse. He struggles with renewed desperation as the smoke starts to curl around his feet. Finally, finally he makes himself look at Gabe’s monstrous face.

“Gabe - Gabe, if you’re in there, please -” Jesse says, _begs_ . “Whatever they did to you, we can fix it. We’ll make it better, just please - _please_ -”

The creature’s clawed hand goes for Jesse’s throat and squeezes. Jesse gasps for breath.

“Please, Gabe, please -” Jesse gasps. “I loved you - I _love_ you - just, please, come back to me -”

The edges of Jesse’s vision is going dark, the smoke enveloping him. He does his best to keep his eyes on Gabe’s, pleading wordlessly when he finally runs out of breath. Just before Jesse loses consciousness, he thinks he sees a spark of recognition in Gabe’s eyes

If it’s the last thing he sees, it’s enough. Jesse lets go.


End file.
